


Look in the Shadows Cause You're Not Alone

by kelofmindelan



Category: Disney - All Media Types, The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Blood and Injury, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelofmindelan/pseuds/kelofmindelan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Dawson had four rules for keeping himself from suspicion and keeping his life conflict free. </p><p>1.	Keep his job at the hospital – it has irregular hours so no one noticed if he has a sudden change.<br/>2.	Be friendly with the people around him. It’s much less noticeable than if he actively keeps to himself, which means regular activity in other places.<br/>3.	Don’t think about the fact that he’s an assassin when he isn’t actively working.<br/>4.	Don’t get too close to anyone.</p><p>For someone who had so few rules left, Basil made him break them so easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look in the Shadows Cause You're Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Innocence Died Screaming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5190980) by [colorfulsounds_changingmoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulsounds_changingmoods/pseuds/colorfulsounds_changingmoods). 



> This was written as a gift to Miki as a companion piece to her fic "Innocence Died Screaming". Sorry this took so long, and I hope this was worth the wait.

David Dawson had four rules for keeping himself from suspicion and keeping his life conflict free.

 

  1. Keep his job at the hospital – it has irregular hours so no one noticed if he has a sudden change.
  2. Be friendly with the people around him. It’s much less noticeable than if he actively keeps to himself, which means regular activity in other places.
  3. Don’t think about the fact that he’s an assassin when he isn’t actively working.
  4. _Don’t get too close to anyone_.



 

For someone who had so few rules left, Basil made him break them so easily.

____________________________________________________

 

When the hospital staff were asked if someone would volunteer to transfer, David made sure to let a pause pass before making a small show of reluctance. It was about time for David to move again anyway, and this gave a perfectly legitimate reason for doing so. With a little help from his employer, he moved into a new flat within walking distance of his new job, and he started the long slow process of becoming familiar with his neighbors.

He had always enjoyed this part of his life – the moving, the meeting people. The break from his secondary occupation. After all, he needed to get to the point where his movements stopped being notable to the people around him before he could risk taking another assignment. Times like this felt like a rest. The rest of his life felt more like waiting.

One of the most important steps each time he moved was finding a decent gym, not only to keep himself fit for each assignment, but also to keep up that appearance of normality and community building. And the fact that he was still finding ways to justify this and explain it to himself after all this time was a little ridiculous. No matter. There was a supposedly good gym just a few blocks from his new flat, so it worked out perfectly.

So the next day, 7 am, he showed up at the gym to get started. He expected that he would keep to himself, share a few friendly comments with whoever was using the machines he liked to use, and move on with his day. Why should this time be any different from all the other times he started in a new part of the city with a new gym?

“You’re in my spot,” a rich voice, tinged with annoyance broke his morning focus.

He looked up from the lockers, prepared to be annoyed, because _honestly_ , it’s 7 am and he’s obviously new here and who really cares about a temporary free locker at a gym? But as soon as he meets the man’s eyes, he can’t help the amused look that crosses his face.

He looks like a cross between the obnoxious teenager trying to earn a reputation in class and the kind of Greek God that is carved in marble just so he can be preserved, and that kind of combination shouldn’t make sense but it _works_. It really really works. Add in the fact that David can tell he has deliberately blanked his expression to counteract sounding like a petulant child, and David is hooked.

It takes him a moment to put together a decent sentence, and when he does, he knows he sounds a little bit naïve and a little bit foolish. “Oh. Well, nobody told me? I could…move?”

“No. Don’t bother – it would hardly be worth it.” With far more drama than the situation called for, the other man sighed loudly and set his gym bag down a few feet away. David had to turn back to his locker to hide the grin that was threatening to turn into a real chuckle as he stripped off his shirt.

He knew he should leave it there. After all, he’d gone through the brief exchange required by social convention, and the other man was hardly making any effort to talk, so its not like he would find silence from David suspicious. He could go about his workout and go home, as he did every other time he started working in a new part of town. Habit and common sense told him to leave it there and leave the room before temptation became too much. As if he was usually tempted. 

Instead he cleared his throat.

David found himself grinning unconsciously as the man turned to him, obviously taking his time to respond which only made him grin wider. “ _Yes_?”

That did it. David lost control of his laughter at how haughty the man managed to sound in the middle of a sweaty locker room, and he shook his head. “Do you have a name?” _Don’t be stupid David, stop this before you become stupid._

“Of course I do. It would be rather preposterous if I didn’t. Basil. And you are…?”

“David Dawson. A pleasure.” And it was. That response was as overdramatic and ridiculous as everything else the man had done, and David couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so light hearted and alive.

“Of course it is – you’re meeting _me_.”

 “Well aren’t you a delight.”

“No need to be redundant, Mr. Dawson.” If David didn’t know better, he would have sworn the man was covering up a smile. As if he was enjoying this strange interaction as much as David was. “You’ll only serve to stroke my ego.”

There was no way David could touch this puffed up hipster’s impression of himself, _that_ he was sure of. “Couldn’t have that.”

“No. We really couldn’t.”

Before David could say anymore, Basil swept out (there was no other word for it, he managed to give the impression of a long billowing coat even in the unattractive workout clothes he’d picked) and that was the end of that.

Or it should have been.

________________________________________________

 

They only spoke twice over the next three weeks, and David had to remind himself not to be disappointed about that. It was perfectly normal, and he filled the time by conversing lightly with other people in the gym. But somehow, in his free time, he kept drifting back to those light hearted exchanges with Basil, and it didn’t matter what he was doing, he smiled anyway.

So, all right, he made up excuses those two times. He asked Basil about the facility’s schedule, despite the fact that he had memorized it as soon as he had picked this to be his normal gym. Then when they walked into the gym at the same time, he spouted the first thing that came to mind, complaining about how hard it was to get there early. It was the kind of conversation he would have had with anyone else at the gym, but here it rang false. Neither meant it, and they both knew it, but Basil didn’t comment on his desperation either. So he left it.

Then came the day that David started to think of as the turning point. Before this day, David could reasonably justify his fascination by saying it was because he was bored and didn’t know the man well. Before this day, he had kept to his rules without any threats to breaking them. Before this day, his life had been on as even a keel as he could expect. That was before.

This was after.

“You all right there Basil?” He’d noticed the man limping as he walked into the gym, and David was instantly alert. It looked like a badly rolled ankle, possible sprain, though clearly not broken or he wouldn’t be walking on it. David itched to get him to sit down so David could examine it and be sure for himself. For professional reasons of course. 

“David.” Basil looked as if he was surprised that he was being spoken to and he paused, staring with a real blankness, unlike the feigned blankness of the first time they met. “Ah – yes, yes, perfectly all right.”

“You’re sure? People don’t’ usually wince like that for no reason.”

“Of course not. You certainly don’t. Ah, that wasn’t…”

As soon as he’d said ‘you’, David had frozen, adrenaline starting to pump through his veins. This was it. David had blown his cover some how, and he was going to have to kill this interesting man to keep his secret life hidden. He couldn’t be sure what expression he was making, but all signs of amusement were hidden under tense expectation of what he would say next. “And what does that mean?”

“Oh. Your shoulder.”

That…that was not what he was expecting to hear. Confusion overlaying everything else, David glanced down quickly. “But I don’t…I don’t make it obvious.” It was part of why he spent so much time in the gym. Because if he didn’t overcome the weakness a bullet left behind, he would lose everything all over again. And if Basil had guessed that, what else did he know?

“No. No, not at all. It isn’t. Obvious, I mean. I’m simply…hyper observant. I know things – see things, rather.”

“Oh?” Hyper observant was still dangerous. David should walk away right now. But if he was simply observant, that meant it could be based only on what had happened in the gym instead of any actual knowledge about how David spent his free time, and he couldn’t help being relieved. He didn’t have to kill him today. Probably. “What sort of…things?" 

“Bullet wound to the shoulder. Permanent, I’m almost certain. Honorable discharge, surely – based on your nauseatingly strong moral compass. Nightmares keep you up. Likely PTSD.”

David was torn between fascination, and a growing desperate worry, with no idea which was going to win. Everything the man had said was spot on, and if he’d been able to guess that based just on three short conversations and shared work out time, what else would he figure out about David as they spent time together? Although considering the ‘nauseatingly strong moral compass’ remark, even if he did guess he might not get it all the way correct.

There was no guidebook for how to handle this situation, no rules given, so David settled it the way he always did. By asking the most obvious question. “But how could you _possibly_ –“

“You flinch at the various metallic-based sounds, associated by some pattern in your subconscious with the sounds from the battlefield Your eyes grow colder when you train long enough to drown out your surroundings, like you aren’t even here. The bags under your eyes are a dead giveaway for lack of sleep – nightmares were the most probable scenario.”

Unbelievable. It was just from observation. He was obviously the most brilliant man David had ever met, and he said all of this so casually, as if this was just how he saw the world. How could David have even considered killing this man? It would be a crime. Without making a conscious decision, fascination won out over every other emotion, and he broke rule number 4 without giving it another thought. He couldn’t let Basil go. “Unbelievable." 

Basil gave a resigned sigh, as if he was letting go of something he hadn’t even known he’d wanted. “There it is. Well, I suppose I should apologize for offending you; it was bound to happen at some – “

The sigh distracted him so much he almost missed what the words were saying. As soon as he caught up, he rushed to reassure him. “What? No. I mean, none of this is any of your damn business, and I’ll ask you not to…well mention any of it again in _public_.” Because if he did, David might become too memorable, and he did have some sense of self-preservation left. “But, you…you aren’t wrong.” 

Managing to look both scared and self satisfied as only he could, Basil nodded. “Of course I’m not.”

“You…oh God.” David couldn’t hold back a relieved laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I think I’ll interpret that as a compliment.”

“You would.”

____________________________________

 

Of course, that was when real life snuck in to remind him that he wasn’t just an ex-soldier with nightmares. He caused them as well.

When he got home from work that day, David had an encrypted email from his employer. There were no personal comments, just three names, a layout of the assigned house, and all the information David needed to pass on to the police and the media to justify the execution.

 He knew that his employer would have already arranged for him to have a few days off from the hospital, making it look like a request that was put in ages ago. All David paid attention to was where he needed to go, and then he shut it off again. Automatically, he packed a duffel bag full of clothes, and a second one full of weapons, before he locked his flat and walked away without looking back.

 Most of the next week is boring. It’s surveillance, which is necessary, but it means a lot of watching and note taking and drinking coffee to keep himself awake while he’s wishing for tea. He’s done it before, but practice doesn’t actually make it easier. 

But in that week, David immerses himself in this second part of his life. After reading through all the information he had to pass on, he knew that these CEO’s were using their businesses to cover up a human trafficking ring. David let the slow burn of anger settle in his gut, because that was what made this job bearable. Anyone who thought they could get away with playing God in order to make a profit needed to be stopped. And maybe with David doing what he was doing, the others would think a little more carefully about their own behavior.

David’s mind drifted back to the beginning of all of this. When he’d gotten home from the war, he’d tried to settle back into his pre-army life. But he couldn’t. He missed the adrenaline rush, and he missed the feeling that he was helping to protect people. Mostly he was frustrated with the fact that he had come home when so many of his comrades hadn’t.

That was when his employer had approached him. He hadn’t said anything definite, just hinted at a way for David to make a difference and provide a little excitement in his life. After his third bar fight in as many days, David had called up the number and said he was ready for whatever it was. The first job came two weeks later.

Finally near the end of the week, all three CEO’s were in the house at the same time. Two of them were in bed together (which David didn’t care about, but the media would have a field day with that on top of all the other information) and the third was in a bedroom across the house. Probably because he didn’t want to be anywhere near the gay sex as if it might be catching. That’s when David made his move. 

First he climbed up a tree, jimmying the lock open and swinging inside the window so he could creep into the room with target one. The man was sleeping on his back, snoring loudly, which only made David’s job easier. He pulled out a sharp hunting knife and stabbed the man through the heart – his breath catching and gurgling before it stopped. He never even opened his eyes. He had more work to do with this body later, but the kill always came first before he took the time to leave the message.

Padding quietly down the hallway, he listened carefully for any signs of alarm. If the men were aware, he would still do what he had to do, but it was easier when they were asleep. Just because they had earned death, that didn’t mean they had earned excessive pain and terror with it. It was one of David’s lines. 

Quietly, he opened the door, raising the gun he had loaded. The men were lying next to each other, one of them with his arm thrown across his lover’s chest, and David spared a thought to hope that the sex had been decent. Then he aimed and shot both of them in the head and following it up with a shot to the heart. 

Now that the worst of the danger was over, David could afford to pause before moving deliberately into the room. He carefully didn’t touch the men, as this would bring enough attention, and instead moved around the room and made sure any incriminating data they had brought with them was easily accessible. Gloves prevented his fingerprints from being on any of it. Then he left the door open as he walked back to the other occupied room, giving it the same treatment before shooting the dead man in the head as well. Consistency was important after all.

As his final act, David grabbed one of the kitchen knives and impaled the huge packet of data his employer had provided about their activity to the door into the hallway, and then he left the building as quietly as he had arrived. All he had to do was deliver the second packet of information to the news station, and then he could head home. The entire process had taken under ten minutes.

Back in his flat, David turned the shower water as high as it would go, stripped, and stepped inside, hissing as the water struck him. He had already hidden his weapons and burned the clothes he had worn for the execution, so now all he had to do was return to his normal life. Which was really the hardest part.

David scrubbed at every inch of his skin, as if he could wash away his knowledge of the deed along with all the evidence. Unwillingly, he thought of Basil, as he had far too often over the last week. Would he be able to guess what David had been up to, and if he did, what would he think? Would he still see David as someone with a strong moral compass, or would he consider him a monster?

Almost viciously, David ducked his head under the heat and scrubbed at his hair. Useless thoughts. Unproductive thoughts. Thoughts that would never matter, because Basil wasn’t ever going to find out. He was better at his job than that, and there was far too much at stake to risk it. So tomorrow, he would go back to the gym, make some joke about insane hospital schedules if Basil bothered to comment, and his life would continue as it always did.

________________________________________________

Of course, that plan went out the window as soon as Basil approached him and opened his mouth. “Too preoccupied to show up more than once every full moon?”

David couldn’t help it, just the sound of the man’s voice had his heart turning over in his chest. It was snarky and self satisfied and was bound to match the shit-eating grin the man himself usually wore whenever he was pleased with himself. It was such a huge contrast to the silent emptiness of the night before, David found himself grinning even before he put the weight down to meet Basil’s eyes.

Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, he sat up. “Good to see you too. What are you, the workout police?”

At that, Basil let out a short sharp bark of laughter, leaning against the wall like some Byronic hero who had deigned to sweat before rolling his eyes. “Hardly – I could never be as embarrassingly incapable as our authorities. I’m only curious. A curse, really.”

“Huh.” He had a point. If Basil had been on the police force, David didn’t think much of his chances of keeping his secret life secret. Something rule number 3 reminded him he shouldn’t be thinking about, especially with rule number 4 on the rocks. So of course, that’s when he threw all caution out the window. “Well, you’re observant, aren’t you? A god among men or whatever – prove it. Where have I been?”

David could feel the slow progression of Basil’s eyes as he examined everything. It almost made him shiver, except that his eyes had become so clinical and calculating. David had caught glimpses of that before, but never focused so exclusively at him for so long. Basil’s eyes were the most expressive part of him, and here they were solid ice.

The rich voice, edged with confusion and suspicion broke his concentration. “Must be off my game today. A rare situation, I assure you.”

The disgruntled comment on the end of a statement that should have come as a relief to David caused him to burst out laughing once more. “Right. Consider me less than impressed.”

The protesting whine almost pulled another laugh out of David, who hid it by rubbing his face again. “Well I would like to see _you_ try, if you’re so high and mighty.”

“Me? All right. I can’t tell you what you’ve done, but I think I could tell you what you’re about to do. You’ll go to lunch with me.” _Idiot. Fool_. He didn’t care anymore. All he wanted was to laugh again like that.

“Will I?” Basil raised his eyebrows, amused challenge in every line of his being as if he was surprised someone would ask something so human of the god. “And, pray tell, how could you know that?”

Because David himself couldn’t resist a challenge and he would play dirty if it meant he got to spend more time with Basil. “Easy. No one turns down my requests for food.” 

“Can’t see why they would.”

David grinned wider and wider at the unintentionally honest comment. Apparently he had won that challenge. He wanted nothing more than to take Basil up on that offer right then, but a week away from the hospital meant he was back on weird shifts to make up for it for a bit. “So, I’m busy today, but what about tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow.”

“How about that sandwich shop nearby, Moll’s Deli? It does good coffee and tea as well, which frankly, I need by the time lunch hits.”

“You know, there are ways to deal with caffeine addiction.” That shit eating grin was back, as if it wasn’t Basil who had identified his lack of sleep in general. They had drifted back to the locker room by this point and Basil was changing with an almost single minded determination, with just enough attention left over to be snarky.

David had glanced over, comeback on the tip of his tongue, when he saw Basil start to put his phone in his pocket after responding to a text. Instead, he leaned over and snatched the phone, quickly putting himself in as a contact before handing it back to the frozen man. “Why don’t you text me about it? I bet you have a list for this already. It’ll give me something to do at work.”

He picked up his bag and walked out before Basil could find a way to respond, chuckle building again and wiping out everything else. He was looking forward to tomorrow.

______________________________________________________

 

_“Manhunt for the murderer of Richard Perry, James Sokolov, and Leopold Price continues, but the trail appears to be going cold. The police have no comments, but there are rumors that the case is going to be taken out of their hands due to the apparently professional nature of the killing. While some people liken the murderer to the popular superhero Green Arrow due to the way he appears to target powerful people involved in shady dealings, others insist that he should have left them to stand trial. The police have no such mixed feelings, insisting that a murderer is a murderer and needs to be caught. Tomorrow….”_

_______________________________________________________

 That first lunch became a second which became twice a week which became every other day, so smoothly and naturally, David couldn’t have found a way to stop it if he wanted to. For the first time, he started rearranging his schedule to make sure he had lunch free, instead of just taking whatever shifts he could get, so people remembered him as accommodating and helpful.

For the first time in a long time, he let himself want something. For the first time in even longer, he let himself have it.

Sometimes, they would stop by Basil’s flat after to continue talking or watch something just to have the noise. Somehow Basil was never bothered by the fact that it was always his place and never David’s, but even now, that felt like a line he shouldn’t cross yet. It was one thing to have a place, it was another to be comfortable enough with someone else to invite them back to it.

But Basil’s place felt like some kind of safe space, and David treasured every minute in it. Even when they got into stupid arguments. Maybe especially then.

“How can you not know who James Bond is? Everyone knows who James Bond is. Just like everyone knows that Daniel Craig is the best James Bond, but after that you have to say Sean Connery is your favorite because if you think Pierce Brosnan is the best, that is the end of our friendship right here." 

“I don’t see how this is relevant to –“

“It’s relevant because it’s James Bond! He’s the ultimate spy and one of the only British action heroes that is actually decent! Besides, you can’t act like a James Bond villain and not know exactly who you’re emulating.”

“How can I be emulating something I didn’t know exist?” 

“Osmosis.”

“And here I thought you were the doctor. You know that osmosis is the movement of _water_ through a membrane. I think you were thinking diffusion.”

“Shut up. Everyone uses osmosis, it sounds cooler than diffusion. And now you’re just trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?”

“Not enough. Sometime soon I’m going to introduce you to James Bond, and then you can be considered a functioning member of British society.” 

“Because that matters _so_ much to me.” 

“It’s happening anyway.”

David found himself making plans to get Basil over to his place for a James Bond marathon, and the thought alone was enough to distract him so Basil could change the topic to a breakthrough psychological study someone had recently published, and David settled back to let him rant to his heart’s content. He had some thinking to do. 

Rule number four was clearly shot. Even the warning email from his employer wasn’t enough to make him consider breaking off the acquaintance. David was sure he wasn’t the only person working for his employer, and the man would have David killed before his operation could be exposed. Hopefully Basil would be left out of that, but there was no way of knowing. There was no way of knowing anything.

But at the same time, other assassins and other serial killers managed to lead perfectly normal lives complete with spouse and family, so why couldn’t David do the same? He’d tried to be sensible and rule based, but as soon as he was around Basil, he forgot everything he’d spent so much time practicing.

David’s mother had once told him that he shouldn’t go to war because he had too much heart. His sister had fired back that of course that was exactly why David was going. He hadn’t said anything because in a way they were both right and his decision had been made long before he had told either of them about it. There was a reason he had become an army doctor instead of a pediatrician like everyone expected.

For a long time, his heart hadn’t said anything at all. It had accepted David’s decision to sacrifice his soul one murder at a time. It had accepted isolation. He’d gotten so used to ignoring it, he hadn’t even realized how much it ached at the life he was living, and he’d started to forget that he had a heart at all.

Until Basil. Basil with his stupid snarky comments, his overwhelming arrogance, and those flashes of sincerity that meant so much more because they were so rare. David was sure the man was a good liar, and yet David could always know when he was telling the truth. For the first time in longer than he cared to say, his heart roared back to glorious life and insisted that he wanted this man. Wanted him for everything he was and the light he brought into David’s life just by being himself.

So hang the rules. He could never follow them around Basil anyway. Time to try a new strategy altogether. He would take whatever consequences came, but for a little while, he wanted to remember what it was to be happy and to love.

So that was when he invited Basil to his own flat for dinner.

 

* * *

 

 _“The art thief, nicknamed the Holmes Invader because of his decision to leave a magnifying glass at each house he stole from struck again. This was his 16 th burglary and pressure on the police force mounted. The stolen piece was the recently rediscovered _The Concert _by Johannes Vermeer, leaving art critics everywhere crying at the loss of this beautiful work all over again. Police insist that they are formulating plans to trap the thief, but…”_

* * *

 

He made pasta with asparagus, pancetta, and pine nuts because it was easy and one of the more balanced meals he could make. Basil was too thin for his own good, and if this went where David hoped, then he planned to start as he meant to go on. Taking care of Basil.

He objected of course. David ignored him.

He tried to distract himself with cooking and their usual light banter, not wanting to put too many expectations on this first dinner. Was it a first date if he hadn’t said anything? Or could that first lunch all those months ago count as their first date? Either way, tonight was going to be the first step towards building the kind of relationship he wanted. But even with the best of intentions, that didn’t work for long.

Banter devolved into a staring contest that neither of them seemed willing to lose. Or was it that both of them felt like the contest itself was a win? The longer they watched each other, the harder it was to hold onto the thread of conversation. And for David to ignore the growing compulsion to confess everything.

Trying to ignore the words he shouldn’t say, instead he shook his head. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“ _This_ , being me? Oh something brilliant, I’m sure.”

“Uh huh. Or something terrible, more likely.” But he didn’t want to think about that right now. Right now all he could think was that he wanted Basil and not to think at all. So why wait? Throwing up his hands he crossed the small room to where Basil stood, reaching around his neck to pull him closer for a kiss.

But then he paused. They’d never actually talked about sexuality in any real way, and just because Basil broke all of David’s previously assumed rules about heterosexuality didn’t mean that he saw David the same way. So he waited to see what Basil would do, hoping against hope that he could have this.

Before he could start to ease himself back, Basil lunged forward and pressed their lips together and David watched as Basil’s eyes fluttered closed. His own relieved sigh was swallowed by the desperate press of their lips against each other. He tightened his grip on Basil’s neck to hold him closer as flames danced under his skin. This. This was what his life had been missing. When Basil wrapped an arm around David’s waist, he allowed himself to be pulled closer so they were pressed flush against each other.

Each successive kiss was a little slower and a little more comfortable as they realized they had the time to explore this and no one was running away. Kissing Basil was unlike anything else he’d experienced, and he wanted to savor every moment. Because he could.

But when he found his hand drifting down to the hem of Basil’s shirt, he made himself pull back, panting with joy and arousal. That was definitely too fast, even in their world without rules. He could feel an involuntary smile begin to creep across his face before Basil shattered it with his usual ridiculous arrogance.

“About damn time.”

Really? _Really_? If Basil had been waiting for this for so long, why hadn’t he made a move? But David was too happy to really be upset and he just let out a small groan. “Oh – would you just – Do you _always_ have something to say?”

“Mm, I should think so.” Basil’s accompanying chuckle was downright sinful, and David’s hands tightened reflexively. 

David wanted to wipe the smug grin off of Basil’s face – his entire world had just shifted damn it, the least Basil could do was pretend to be affected – but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up in a battle of wits. So instead he yanked Basil down into another kiss, pouring his attraction and frustration into it, nipping at Basil’s bottom lip until he could feel the man shiver. There. That was what he wanted.

David pulled back and grinned at the sight before him. Basil was struggling to open his eyes and he looked thoroughly ravished. “Still have something to say?”

His grin only widened when Basil could barely manage a hum and he let out a small self-satisfied laugh. It had been a long time since he’d deliberately tried to scramble someone’s brain. It was nice to see he still had that power, especially with someone who prided themselves on their mental power. How far could he take that? It would be interesting to find out.

Basil started chuckling after, and the pure light in his eyes had David pressing closer, not wanting to miss a moment of this. He had such expressive eyes. Normally they drifted between a clinical coldness and hot scorn, but this was a pure warmth. David wanted to burn this into his memory. He never knew when he was going to need to use that image to keep his sanity. It didn’t matter if this moment ended tomorrow, he had tonight, and he would make each moment last.

* * *

 

_To: David Dawson_

_Adrian Spence, Laura Marriott – drug trafficking_

_Download attachments_

One email and David was thrust from his euphoric dream back into the realities of his life. The information showed that they were going to be in a complex of flats he had actually lived in before. Tomorrow. Instead of the usual week, he needed to be ready tomorrow.

He sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening that Basil wouldn’t think to use the spare key David had given him two days before, but he wasn’t sure why he bothered. If there was a God, he had no reason to answer David’s prayers anymore. He was certainly a damned soul. A quick text to Basil saying an emergency had come up at the hospital and he had to change his shifts around was a much better bet. Then he gathered everything he needed.

This time, he packed light. Thermos’s of coffee, his preferred gun with the improved silencer, extra bullets just in case. On a whim, he strapped one of his knives to the small of his back so he could reach it easily. You never knew. And despite how easy this job looked, the day you were unprepared was the day you died. Then he locked the flat behind him and moved to get into position.

For the first part of his wait time, he let himself think of all of the drug cases he’d seen. Kids so strung out they couldn’t even beg for help. Parents standing by as he tried to pump the stomach of the person on his operating table. Vets who took every cent you gave them and spent it on anything they could get to numb the memories while their bodies ate away at itself. Women who were dying from the combination of drugs and STDs, but immediately going back to their pimps when they got out of the hospital because they couldn’t stay away. And these parliament members thought they could make all of this easier. No more.

The next day, they arrived inside the flat exactly when they were expected. They both carried large briefcases, probably filled with the details of past transactions and their plans for how to expand the illegal movements. With the two of them awake, David wished he could have taken a sniper’s position and shot both of them from a distance, but they had chosen their flat well. There were no distant vantage points for him to use. Which meant this had to be close.

David gave them time to settle in and let down their guard before moving out of his room next door and over to their door. He used his master key to open the door and swung it open, immediately raising his gun to shoot the woman sitting at the table – head and heart. That was when things went wrong. 

The man came out from behind the door and lunged forward. David caught the flash of a knife and twisted, trying to shield his body and the knife sliced from just below his eye down his cheek. David gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying out at the pain, trying to turn to get his gun up again before his opponent could come at his back.

Now it wasn’t the job. Now it was just survive.

The cut was shallow, but the pain was just enough of a distraction that he misjudged his roll. Pulling out the knife he had grabbed earlier, he raised it just in time to block the downward sweep of the butcher knife. Who the hell was this parliamentarian that he knew how to fight like this?

David kicked out and caught the other man’s knee, hoping the move would force the man to drop the knife. He wasn’t that lucky. Instead with a small cry, the man went down on one knee before using the momentum to shove him forward, hoping to skewer David.

He tried to move, but as soon as he did, he realized his body was placed all wrong. Instead of moving backward and up, all he did was twist sideways as the knife ripped across the skin of his stomach. David gasped before bringing the hilt of his knife down on Adrian’s wrist hearing the sharp satisfying crack of bone and the other man’s cry. He dropped his knife and pulled his wrist in. That was all the window David needed.

Raising his gun, he fired the traditional two shots. Adrian fell and David left him where he lay. No point positioning the bodies this time. The story told here would be enough.

David pressed one hand to his stomach, hissing at the bright starburst of pain. His hand came away red and shiny, but he hadn’t felt any organs. Good. That was one blessing. But that was the only one.

Knowing that his time was running out, David simply dropped the packet of information in the middle of the mess and cast a glance to be sure that the briefcases were in plain sight. He couldn’t be bothered to get the second packet to a news station this time, so he had to hope that the information to the police would be enough. Or…

Limping across the hall, he picked a room full of bright laughter and shoved the packet half under the door. They would see it and get it to whoever they thought was appropriate. Or it would make them great interview subjects. He didn’t care anymore. The job was done.

Gathering all of his stuff from the next room, David crept out of the flat complex, only pausing to pick up Adrian’s knife. It was a decent knife, and it had David’s blood on it. Better that it wasn’t around to become evidence. Then wrapping his stomach firmly with a towel from the room to try and slow the bleeding until he could get help, he made his way back home.

But now he was trapped in a whole new problem. If he went to a hospital, the attack would be documented and people might start asking questions. Questions David couldn’t afford to answer, not when he knew most of the people on staff. But one look at the wound told him he couldn’t sew this together himself. He needed help. And there was only one person he could consider. 

Although this could also be one of the stupidest moves he’d ever made. This could be what landed him in prison or finished him. There was no reason for him to come, no reason for him to be able to help if he did, and no reason to keep any of the secrets. But David didn’t care anymore. If this was how he went, then damn it it was going to be on his terms with the truth known to one of the only people he trusted. That was as much absolution as he would ever be able to get.

Reaching over to the nearby table, he punched the numbers into the phone, fighting to hold onto consciousness for at least this long.

“Evening Dawson.”

David felt a completely pathetic need to cry at the quick response and the familiar warmth at the other end of the phone, but all he could do was take a sharp breath and try to force words past the pain. “Basil.”

“What’s wrong?”

Of course. One word and he could detect the differences in his normal tone to know that something was off. And the real question was what _wasn’t_ wrong, but he couldn’t exactly say that. He tried to laugh but the pain had his hunching over. “Ah – so observant. Fuck. Could you – “ The slippery grip on his phone failed and he dropped it into his lap, a steady stream of breathless curses following his fumbling attempt to pick it back up again.

Grabbing the towel on the floor next to him, he used that to pick up the phone just as he heard “…you still there?”

“Ah shit. Yeah, sorry – dropped the towel I’m using. Just – just, come over, please? I…yeah.” Even this much talking was pushing him closer to the edge of unconsciousness as his gasping breaths exacerbated the pain.

“On my way. Whatever you did, I’m certain it was stupid.”

David had to laugh despite how much it hurt. Fuck he was so in love with Basil, even his insults made him feel better. “Thanks for the – ah – vote of, of confidence.” 

He heard the click from the other line and he dropped the phone on the ground, not caring where it fell. The decision was no longer in his hands. All he had to do was wait for Basil to come, hopefully stitch him up, or turn him over to the police and end his dilemma entirely. On that thought, he blacked out briefly.

He came to when the door slammed and Basil swept into the room. He knew what it looked like. Forgotten cut on his face, two bloody towels wrapped around him, unable even to rise from where he was on the floor. Honestly, David wouldn’t have been surprised if Basil had taken one look and turned straight around.

But it wouldn’t be Basil if he didn’t surprise David, so instead all he said was, “First aid kit?”

David pointed slightly at the bathroom, tracking Basil’s movements with his eyes and trying to breathe as shallowly as possible. It was only a moment before Basil was kneeling next to him, concern etched on his face is a frighteningly honest display of emotion.

“May I…” Fuck, Basil was actually asking for something. David moved the towel so he could see the damage, almost laughing out loud at the shocked horror. Welcome to his life. “ _Jesus_. Hospital?”

“No!N-“ he gasped as his frightened statement drew more pain from him and he forced himself to calm down. He could do this. “No hospitals. Need you to fix it.” Please, please let Basil agree with him. Please let Basil be able to handle this. Please let this impulse serve him as well as his last one and keep him alive.

Normally he stitched up himself in these sorts of circumstances, but the size of the wound and his own blood loss prevented that. If he tried, he was only going to leave the job half done and that was as bad as not doing it at all. Infection could set in too easily that way, and then he would have to go to the hospital. He’d never needed to trust someone this way before, and he knew that he shouldn’t like it. But his big heart, the one that had sent him to war in the first place, it had already made the decision. If he only trusted one person, it was this one, and all he could hope was that he was right.

Finally Basil nodded and began the slow process of cleaning and stitching up the wound. David tried to breathe as shallowly as possible to make this easier, but every now and then he couldn’t stop a gasp of pain or a frustrated groan. Basil didn’t talk. David almost wanted to, if only he could know what Basil was thinking. Did he think David was crazy? Did he guess what had happened? David couldn’t’ think like that so instead hefocused on Basil’s hands. Long, delicate fingers that hid a surprising amount of strength. Steady hands. There was a burn on the back of his forefinger knuckle and a web of scars glimpsed on the palm of his left hand. Maybe someday Basil would tell him about those. Maybe he would be lucky enough to deserve the right to know.

Finally Basil sat back, eying David curiously. This wasn’t the cold clinical curiosity of his analytical mode or the bright curiosity whenever he was faced with one of his science puzzles. It was just…curious. As if he didn’t know what to make of the sight in front of him, or if he should bother.

But David knew he had to say something, so he took refuge in manners. “Thank you.”

“Of course. For you, anything.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ Anything. The word tore through David more harshly than any knife and left him feeling hopeful and ragged at the same time. Anything. Basil deserved so much better from David than the half truths he had initially thought to give him. He could try to justify it to himself as protecting Basil, but that didn’t matter. Basil said he would do anything for David, even come patch him up with no expectation of an answer. This man who lived for puzzles. David had to give him the truth in return. “It was a knife.”

“You needn’t say anything. I won’t ask questions.”

God of course he wouldn’t. He had just promised David anything, of course he was going to say he didn’t need anything else. Basil may not have realized it, but David knew that was as close to a declaration of love as he was probably going to get. And as old fashioned as David was, love demanded honesty. It was the only way it had a hope. So even as he asked nothing, he demanded everything, and David couldn’t give him any less. No matter the consequences. He supposed his time had come.

“I know. God – I know. Not sure I deserve that, after pulling you in here. But I want to tell you. I need to.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” How did you do this? How did you tell someone you were a murderer? “Have you seen the news today?” He’d heard the sirens screaming past as he had made his way home, so he was certain it was already on the news. “The two parliament members – they were killed. But one of them…someone must have tipped the bastard off. He knew it was coming, so he had a knife. He fought back. Tried to at least.”

The silence stretched longer and longer, and David watched as a progression of unreadable emotions crossed Basil’s face. He could recognize shock, but the rest of it was too confused for David to have any clue what was happening. Finally it was too much for his nerves. He had to know what happened now. “Basil? Please, just…just say something. _Please_.” Please don’t hate me after all.

“What are you?”

David could barely maintain a flinch. When people pulled out ‘what’ it was never a good sign. You weren’t totally human to them anymore. Which he supposed he wasn’t. “I think you know very well _what I am_ now – “

“No,” the sharp exclamation was the first sign of emotion he had seen and David nearly flinched again. “That isn’t what I meant. Are you for hire? Is it for your _enjoyment_?”

“Not exactly. I work for someone who helps identify people that have done something unforgivable. I make sure they face justice for it.” It was the easiest way to explain his strange employment, and he didn’t have the energy for anything else. Maybe if he was healthy, he could have explained so Basil would understand, but right now just staying awake took everything he had. And he was losing Basil in front of him. Add a little heartbreak and all he could think was that maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t been saved.

“Something unforgivable.” Basil let out a harsh laugh that grated on David’s nerves. “What irony. So this is what you did after the war? Couldn’t live without it?”

Yes. “There’s more to it than that and you know it.” But that was the last of his strength. He had gambled and lost. So be it. “Go ahead and turn me in then. Not like I can run.”

But instead of Basil moving toward the phone, he laughed. He laughed and David looked up in honest confusion because what the hell was so funny about this? “Turn you in? Oh Dawson – I would be a fool to do that. Even if I could, I don’t think I would want to.”

“Even…wait, what do you mean, ‘i _f you could’_?” None of this made the least bit of sense, and the sudden spike of hope was almost too painful to bare.

“You of all people know that I’m not very good at following rules. I couldn’t change someone looking into that. No no – too much of a risk.”

What the actual fuck. Was Basil _playing_ with him? Because that was the only thing that made sense. Basil didn’t like rules so he didn’t have rules that could be broken like David did. But if there was something else, why wouldn’t he just come out and say it? It’s not like there was any way for David to talk and he knew that. “Of a…? Basil, what the hell? Are you trying to rub this in? Make me feel _worse_?”

“Oh of all the – stop pitying yourself. I’m a thief David. Not exactly favored by the law either. There I’ve spelled it out for you. Do stop looking at me like that, I fear your face will stick that way.”

“God do you always have to be a complete asshole?” Not all of us had minds that worked at the speed of light and noticed everything around them. But still, it was hard to imagine Basil as a lawbr-ok no, it was easy to imagine him breaking the law, but stealing? “A thief. And you steal, what – chemistry sets from children?”

Basil looked so offended at the idea he would be a petty thief it was almost comical. Maybe later David would find it funny. “Art, actually. No doubt you’ve seen the stories.”

“You steal art. You’re an art thief. The Holmes Invader?”

“Brilliantly done. Do let me know when your award shows up for solving that grand mystery.”

“Oh shut up.” Basil was always so impatient with people who didn’t think the way he did, but you’d think he’d have a little more compassion for the man who still couldn’t get off the floor due to pain and blood loss. And who was still struggling to comprehend that the one person he trusted was apparently as untrustworthy as David himself. “And where is it all? Have you got a massive warehouse stacked with paintings?”

“I have several hanging on the walls of my flat, actually. You’ve seen those. The rest are hidden – various locations which I’m afraid I won’t disclose. Forgive me for not trusting you.”

David narrowed his eyes, thinking back. There had been one of a girl playing piano for two people standing nearby that looked sort of familiar now that he thought about it. And one of a girl rowing over to a brilliantly colored fall tree. He’d only paid a little bit of attention to them before, but he’d only taken art history to get through secondary school, he’d never been good at recognizing that sort of thing.

Still, the trust comment stung more than it should have considering everything else that happened, and he found himself firing back, “Not sure you can use that anymore. You’re not exactly about the law, either, Basil.”

“You kill people. I steal paintings. Rethink that.”

After that, what could he say? It didn’t matter that what he did had a purpose, his crime was the worse and he knew that. He couldn’t afford to judge anyone else and he couldn’t expect Basil to understand. All that was left now was for Basil to walk out that door and disappear from his life. At least he knew his secret would last a little longer.

“David.” Careful fingers raised his chin until he was looking into Basil’s eyes. Those brilliant eyes that had captured him from the first moment they’d met. There was something in them that almost caused him to hope, almost made him think he wasn’t about to lose everything, but he couldn’t be sure. Hope was a dangerous game.

“What you do is by no means _good._ It’s unforgivable according to some, justice according to others. I, on the other hand, don’t really give a damn one way or the other. I’m nonbiased towards your…career. What I am biased towards is you. And I, well, I happen to like you. I don’t do that – this, ever. So, I’m accepting this. Not overlooking – _accepting_.”

What? Could he possibly mean it? David tried to understand what he’d just been told, but it was so hard to believe that it was possible. Only a week ago he had been justifying to himself the idea of having the person he loved for a little while, and now apparently Basil was saying he was ok with everything, not just the public David but the secret one as well. In his wildest daydreams he had never imagined this was possible and he felt some knot in his chest he hadn’t even noticed unravel. He felt something strangely akin to hope. So that left only one important question.

“So, uh, what exactly is… _this_?”

“Oh. I don’t know, Dawson.”

All right, not exactly the answer he was looking for. But an honest one. So maybe it was the perfect answer after all. “Well what do you want?”

Honestly, David would accept whatever he could get. In a strange way, he was feeling better than he had since he’d come home from war, so everything after this could be worked with. He had his life, he had his purpose, and now he had this. Whatever Basil decided this was. They would make it work.

“To stay.”

Those words were enough to start a slow grin spreading across David’s face and warmth to spread through his body and cover up the pain. It wasn’t a promise of forever or an immediate solution, but it was enough. Later they could figure out how or if they lived together, how much they would know of each other’s crimes, how they would deal with the movements their jobs required. If they still needed to go to that damn gym at all. But practical details would come later. What they had right here was a start.

And with such a simple answer, there was really only one way to respond. “Okay.”


End file.
